


Past Indiscretion

by Truth



Category: Alice (2009)
Genre: M/M, Mind Games, Torture, implied past relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-19
Updated: 2010-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-13 19:05:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/140649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Truth/pseuds/Truth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hatter's time with Dee and Dum could've been 15 seconds, it could've been 15 days.  The things they dug up from the dusty corridors of the past made it seem much longer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Past Indiscretion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anne_Animouse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anne_Animouse/gifts).



Dum and Dee were high masters in the art of fucking with your mind. Once they got their pasty, eager hands on you, it was only a matter of time before the Queen knew everything you’d ever held precious and secret. They enjoyed their work, threw themselves into it with an unholy rapture that matched their skill. A shame, perhaps, that this skill was learned in great part through trial and error, though no one alive could testify to that.

These two things were not unrelated.

Their milieu was the dark and painful corners of your mind, the memories that persisted despite denial and desperate attempts to forget. No matter how well hidden, they would find those moments of trauma and terror and use them mercilessly against you.

Hatter was finding the cattle prod to be an actual _relief_.

**

The high, dark walls of the Queen’s School for Exceptional Boys gave lie to the somewhat pompous name. There was a Queen’s Educational Institute for Promising Girls as well, but the only difference between them was the gender of the gaolers. Make no mistake, education of a sort was provided.

In a world where control of the adult population was crucial, children were the weak point. To keep parents from becoming attached, to finding something they might actually _care_ for, the children rounded up the moment they could walk. Divided by gender, they were collected in a huge building where you learned all the things the Queen thought were necessary for you to be a contributing member of society.

It was a surprisingly short list. Obedience was the big one, but you also learned such things as how to cook, how to clean, how to repair things and the like. There were no textbooks, no teaching volumes, not even any notebooks. The children learned by rote and experience, reading only included in their training as a necessity for communication within their eventual employment.

Those who excelled at their tasks were removed from the school in order to receive more specialized training – or so the remaining children were told. They would become Suits, or work in the casino, they would learn how to make tea, or even become a part of the Queen’s court.

For those who refused to learn obedience and how to toe the line, other methods were employed.

The QSEB had three daily recesses, one after every meal, and the boys were allowed to ‘play’ together during this time. Carefully supervised and approved games that provided adequate exercise and tested hand-eye coordination and an ability to work together were encouraged. High nets ringed the rooftop exercise area, ostensibly to keep any balls from going over the edge of the building. The older boys used the time as an excuse to actually socialize, something that was heavily discouraged at any other time. They gathered in small groups and spoke in low voices, always keeping an eye out for the adults.

“Has anyone seen the Frog twins?”

“Their first class is Law, and the teacher didn’t even call their name.”

“- not on the list to graduate. They pranked the Lion before Basic Maintenance last week.”

“That makes it five, now. Where d’you think they’re taken?”

“Same place the failures go, probably. They just don’t wait till the end of the year to take ‘em.”

“I hear they get experimented on. In the Queen’s labs.”

“Shut up, Gnat. Someone’ll hear.”

“Hey, Hatter – weren’t you friends with the Frogs?”

“No!” The denial was reflexive. Hatter ducked his head, knowing that everyone could see the lie. “We weren’t friends.”

“Their mistake was getting caught.”

The small group of boys turned, slowly, to take in the new arrival. Hare managed to always be behind you, even when you were specifically looking out for him, and he gave everyone the creeps. Even the instructors kept a careful eye on him, or tried to. He was tall and lean, having hit a growth spurt early, and always seemed to know more than you’d like.

Hare never did anything that didn’t directly benefit him in some way. He didn’t mix much with the other boys and rarely, if ever, spoke to them unless he was issuing an order. No one might’ve liked him, but no one wanted to cross him, either. The boys drew away from him, carefully, no one wanting to actually turn their back.

“So they got sent away because they were caught?”

“Shut up, Gnat!”

Hare smiled at them all, a curve of thin lips that meant absolutely nothing. “Sent away. That’s cute.”

Some of the boys at the edge of the group took the opportunity of Hare’s focus on the unlucky Gnat and slipped quietly away. Hatter was, unfortunately, directly beside Gnat and had no such opportunity.

“What d’you mean ‘cute’?” Gnat might’ve been one of the youngest at their level in the school, only barely sixteen, but he was by far the largest. He had little fear of anyone, but all of his intelligence was of the sort found in books. That made him somewhat slow on the uptake sometimes and a perfect target for Hare.

“The shirkers and troublemakers and failures,” Hare said. “They’re not sent away. It’s not like the kids who pass. People come to pick them up. No one comes for the failures.”

Hatter didn’t need Hare to spell it out for him. The Queen’s School was somewhat isolated, and everyone knew when anyone came or went. The noise of the huge, antique engines that drove the flying bugs and the occasional distinctive drone of a flamingo could be heard all over the building. Hare was right – those who didn’t pass never left the building.

It was Gnat who put the unthinkable into words.

“So what happens to them?”

Hare looked at Gnat, then at the other boys and, finally, at Hatter. “Let’s find out.”

**

It took the appearance of Mad March, standing just at the edge of Hatter’s somewhat blurred vision, for a realization of what was going on. The cattle prod was real enough, as was the almost obscene glee of Dee and Dum – but there was more going on here.

“You’re rummaging,” he accused the closest of them, unable to tell them apart. “You can’t find my levers, so you’re just… poking about.”

That earned him a vicious jab to his side that caused his entire body to seize, muscles jerking and shaking. Dee (or Dum) leaned in to whisper, “You’ve no idea, my lad. None at all.”

Hatter’s mind was wandering, despite his best attempts. You’d think that pain would force a focus, or make it impossible to think, but here in the empty, shifting darkness, thought gave him an escape from the tremors still running through his body. He focused on Mad March.

It had been years since he’d seen the insane murderer, but Hatter knew, _knew_ , that he would have recognized Mad March, even with that startling china head. Something about the way he stood, the way he held himself, screamed his name as clearly as if he’d been wearing a tag with his name on it. Mad March carried himself with menace and murder just beneath the surface of his skin and once you’d seen him in action, you could never forget him.

Another jab of pain brought him back to the present, jerking against his bonds and struggling to focus. He had to keep them away from the important things, had to think about anything else, had to keep himself in the present….

**

Hare’s skill at intimidation and manipulation made Gnat’s presence a given. All he’d had to do was insult Gnat’s bravery. Hatter’s involvement in this particular bit of insanity was more difficult to explain.

When Gnat had told Hare where to stuff it and _insisted_ on accompanying him down to the lower levels, ‘to see what happens’, the other boys had swiftly abandoned the conversation. No one wanted to be caught up in what would happen next.

Hatter had been just a little too slow, or so he thought, and Hare’s hand caught at the back of his jacket. “Not you. You’re coming with us.”

“Me?” Hatter’s voice went up to an embarrassing squeak, and he winced. “Why me?”

“So when the other boys ask what happened, you can tell them,” Hare said. It sounded almost reasonable. If just Gnat and Hare went, it’d be one person’s word against the other. A third party would guarantee at least some truth.

Or would if one of the people involved weren’t Hare.

Hatter swallowed. It wasn’t that he was afraid, not really. Things tended to go a bit pear-shaped whenever Hare was involved – and Hare was always the one who got away. “Look, I’m not sure –“

The hand in his jacket tightened to a fist, and Hare turned, dragging Hatter bodily with him. “You don’t need to be sure, just present.”

With Gnat lumbering along in the rear, Hatter let himself be dragged out of the exercise and approved sporting area. It wasn’t a difficult trick to avoid the instructors, most of them had their attention on the various games and it was rare that anyone tried to leave the roof.

Once within the familiar halls, Hare released Hatter, confident that he wouldn’t attempt to run away. Hatter wished he could resent the taller boy’s arrogant assurance, but was honest enough to sullenly admit that he was right. “So where are you taking us?”

“Down.” Hare set off toward the kitchens. “There are levels and levels below the school. The kids never leave, so that’s where they have to be.”

“Yeah, I get that. But _how_? It’s not like there are big signs saying ‘Stairway to Hidden Levels, This Way’.”

“Don’t be smart, Hatter.” Gnat reached forward to flick at the back of his head. “They’re not hidden. We all know the school doesn’t just end at the 25th floor and then hang in space, unsupported. There’s lots of building below us.”

“Shut up, Gnat.” Hatter batted at the intruding hand even as Gnat flicked at him again. “Yeah, but I’ve never seen any stairways after the 25th, so they’re not exactly all out in the open, are they?”

Hare ignored them both, walking into the main teaching kitchen as if he owned the place. They followed him, reluctantly, knowing that being caught would send them to the same place the Frog twins had ended up. Hatter was positive that he didn’t really want to know what that place was.

“Why the kitchens?” Gnat asked, crowding along behind Hatter.

“Because it’s one of the areas where we can’t go without direct supervision.” The words were out of Hatter’s mouth before he could censor them, and he winced as Hare stopped abruptly.

“Well. What have we here?” Hare turned to look back at Hatter, a spark of interest making his normal, empty expression even more intimidating. “Is that something you picked up from the Frogs, or did you figure it out on your own?”

Hatter glared at him, defensive, finally feeling his temper rise. “I’m not an idiot, you know. I’m not a _flunky_.”

Hare’s smile was back, but this time it had something behind it that had even Gnat taking a slow step back. “The Frog twins pulled a lot of pranks, didn’t they?”

“I don’t –“

“Someone’s coming!” Gnat lunged forward, grabbing Hatter by the shoulder. “Come on!”

Hare turned on his heel and was away, fast as his namesake. The three boys raced through the kitchen and ducked behind one of the high shelves by the freezer. While Gnat kept a worried eye on the doors, Hare slipped into the storeroom, pulling Hatter with him.

Hatter was becoming very tired of being dragged to and fro and jerked his arm free from Hare’s grip. “Stop that.”

“Then move on your own,” Hare said. He let go of Hatter and began to poke about.

“I’m not doing this,” Hatter said. He took a step backward toward the door to the kitchen. “I’m not.”

“You are.” Hare didn’t even look back at him. A set of cupboards and closets lined one of the walls, and he busied himself opening each one. “ – here we go.”

**

“A naughty boy, this one.” Dum sounded disappointed. “Naughty – but not much else.”

Hatter blinked himself back to reality – for a given definition – and suddenly couldn’t think of anything save how much everything _hurt_.

“There must be more,” Dee said. “He was with that girl. The Queen won’t be satisfied with ‘naughty’.”

“He’s not really there, is he?” Hatter found himself staring at the somewhat fuzzy image of Mad March. “I’m hallucinating him.”

“Focus!” One of them jabbed him again, and Hatter had to clench his jaw tightly to keep from biting his tongue as electricity again jolted through him. “You’re here for a _reason_ , and you’ll show us what that is.”

It was becoming harder and harder to concentrate on his surroundings. It couldn’t be the real Mad March. It _couldn’t_. He’d know, wouldn’t he?

The room, if you could call it that, wavered. He was trapped by a pair of sadists in a Day-Glo green lava lamp with a faulty plug –

**

The depths of the School held very little of interest, at least for the first ten or so floors. Storage of old books, classrooms that had probably once been used for the teaching of subjects more complex than ‘How to get a Really Good Shine on that Pesky Floor’ and a great deal of grime seemed to be all there was to be found.

“Look at this mess. There’s nothing down here after all,” Gnat said. He ran his fingers through the dust on one of the walls. “No one’s been here in ages.”

Hatter kept his mouth shut. He could _feel_ Hare watching him, just waiting for him to say something.

“Seriously, this is stupid.” Gnat picked up a book and shook the dust off it. “You made it sound like there was something mysterious going on. This is just… a mess.”

Reflex won out. “Shut _up_ , Gnat! The stairwell’s clean. That means that someone’s using the stairwell and there’s something further down!” Hatter said. He could feel that empty smile of Hare’s directed at the back of his neck by the prickle of his hair attempting to stand on end. Hatter ignored it, or tried to.

“Back to the stairwell, Gnat.” Hare’s voice was almost directly in his ear, and Hatter jumped despite himself. “Let’s go further down.”

This time they stayed in the stairwell, listening for footsteps as they stopped at every floor and peered within to see if the dust was still thick and undisturbed. As Gnat eased open the door for the eleventh level, a sharp slice of bright light cut into the darkness of the stairwell and all three boys blinked. They’d become used to the gloom of the disused levels and they froze, squinting, as Gnat slid the door further open.

The sound of activity came through as sharply as the light and Hare caught the edge of the door and examined it. “Soundproofing”.

Hatter concentrated on the sounds; the far-off murmur of voices, the wheeze of some kind of fan and a few noises that weren’t so easily identifiable. “There’s a lot of people down here.”

“Hall’s empty,” Gnat reported, peering in. “It’s all… sciencey in there. White and gleaming and lots of windows and bubbling stuff.”

“Don’t tell me about the bubbling stuff,” Hatter said. “You’re going to get us caught, Gnat.”

Gnat glanced back at him. “Am not.”

“Both of you shut up.” Hare moved around Gnat to peer into the hallway himself. “Come on.”

Gnat followed him, leaving Hatter to hesitate in the doorway. He really, really did not want to be here. If the Frog twins were taken away just for that last prank, what kind of punishment would be meted out to trespassers _here_?

Or what would Hare do to him if he didn’t follow? There might be guesses and rumors as to punishments at the School, but everyone _knew_ that Hare would do horrible things to you if you crossed him.

Swallowing hard, Hatter eased into the hallway, making certain that the door would open again from the far side.

**

“He’s just muttering nonsense now.”

Everything was echoing oddly. Hatter could feel spasms through his entire system. Pain wrapped around his arms from the bonds that held him against the chair. He _was_ muttering nonsense, could hear it ringing tinnily in his own ears between uneven gasps for breath.

“He’s got nothing to give.”

In the small part of his mind that was still capable of clear thinking, Hatter decided that Dum (or Dee) shouldn’t sound quite so pleased about that. His face hurt, and he could feel a few loose teeth. They were definitely going to kill him, whether they found anything interesting or not, and all three of them knew it.

“Keep at it.”

Hatter blinked blearily up at the white blurr he knew to be Mad March and shivered. “So… you are real.”

That made it all so much worse.

**

One hand clamped viciously over Hatter’s mouth, arm around his throat, Hare’s full weight held the other boy pressed flat against the floor. There’d been little under a minute to get into cover, and the two boys had collided on their way into the same small space behind one of the machines that crammed the laboratory. In the rush to hide, they’d ended up together. However uncomfortable his position, Hatter’s gratitude that he’d ended up with Hare was entirely genuine.

He only wished, desperately, that he could cover his ears.

“No, please! I was just curious! _Please_!” Gnat had been calm enough when he hadn’t made it to cover, but that was before the wet, ugly noises had started and Gnat had begun to scream.

The lack of any questions only made it worse.

Hare’s grip remained tight, as if he expected Hatter to fight his way free in order to help Gnat. The only movement Hatter was currently capable of was shaking violently. Terror held him immobile, even as his gut knotted painfully. Hare held him face to floor, another thing Hatter was miserably grateful for.

Eventually, Gnat stopped screaming. The other noises continued for some little while, and it was only Hare’s weight and the hand clamped over Hatter’s mouth that kept him from being sick. Hare shifted his weight, pressing a tight, wide smile into the nape of Hatter’s neck.

He’d been watching the entire thing, whatever it was, between the huge, glowing coils of the machine they’d taken cover behind. Hatter could feel his gut twisting again and this time he fought Hare’s hold.

“Shhhh.” Hare’s smile moved against Hatter’s skin as he spoke. “They’re still out there.”

Hatter froze for a long moment. The faintest of sounds from the lab said that Hare was telling the truth. Hare moved again and Hatter knew he was watching whatever was happening on the other side of their shelter. His grip tightened, nearly cutting off Hatter’s air, and his struggle for breath finally bought a partial release.

“They’re almost done cleaning up.” Hatter shuddered again and Hare laughed against his skin. “Is this what happened with the Frog twins? I _know_ you were behind at least half of the pranks they pulled… and yet they’re the ones who got caught.”

Hatter pulled viciously, managing to free an arm. He snatched at the hand over his mouth, digging in and pulling. Hare refused to let go. Voice just barely a whisper, he continued, “You _knew_ that last prank would get them in trouble. Knew it – and let them do it anyway. Now they’re down here, somewhere… being made into something more useful, or just suffering, like Gnat.”

Another sharp pull gained him enough space to speak, and Hatter said, “You knew _this_ was going to happen. You knew.”

“Shhh.” Hare was still grinning into the side of Hatter’s neck, and every time he spoke, Hatter squirmed. “So did you.”

“Not like _this_ ,” Hatter said. He struggled to keep his voice a whisper. “I pull pranks. You got Gnat killed.”

“He’s not dead.” As Hatter drew a breath of relief. “Yet.”

“Let me go.”

To his surprise, Hare did so. The older boy rose quietly to his feet, peering out. Without another word, he headed across the lab. Hatter pulled himself off the floor and followed, trying hard not to look at the ugly smear on the floor where he’d last seen Gnat.

They made it back to the stairwell without being discovered. The moment they were again in the dim shadows, Hatter sank to his heels, wrapping his arms around himself and fighting back the urge to vomit. Fear, fury, guilt… they dragged him in different directions and he fought them, knowing he had to keep moving.

“Get up.” Hare dragged Hatter to his feet by the back of his collar. “I’m not through with you yet.”

“F-fuck _you_.”

Hare looked almost surprised – almost. “You’re made of tougher stuff than I thought, Hatter.” The wide smile that Hatter had felt against his skin was suddenly visible. “I like that.”

**

As things swung back into sickly green focus, Hatter could hear himself speaking again, nonsense tumbling from his lips in time with the throbbing in his muscles and his head.

“Tell me where the Great Library is.”

The voice was… wrong. Dissonant and distorted and nothing like – but Hatter heard the question clearly, as it was spoken and, for the briefest of moments, the past and the present slid together with an unpleasant click. He stared up at Mad March’s smooth, china head, seeing not the rabbit but the teenaged boy they’d all called Hare.

\- at least until the day of Gnat’s disappearance. Something had changed then, changed horribly, and Hatter had seen it all first hand.

He stared up at Mad March, focused clearly for the first time in what felt like weeks. This is why he’d been brought here. Hare had always been good at figuring things out, always ferreting free the things you never, ever wanted him to know. He didn’t think to wonder how Hare knew, simply pulled himself together for denial.

Not of the knowledge, the question alone told him Mad March knew too much… but long ago, Hatter had sworn never again to give Hare _anything_ \- especially satisfaction.

“I didn’t think you’d crack.”

Hatter knew what would happen next, didn’t have to hear the words or see the knife. Hare had always been in control, even of his own madness… and if Hatter were going to die, he’d make the bastard _pay_ for the privilege.

Mad March’s words washed over him as so much gibberish.

“Good-bye, Hatter.”

It was too much. It was just enough. The bonds of fear and hate and long-ago terror finally snapped and Hatter knew exactly what to do.

‘You’re in my head now, you bastard, just like you always wanted to be.’

As he rocked backward, pain still tearing at his side and head, he thought of Gnat. It was too late for justice, maybe too late for revenge, but it wasn’t too late to atone. Hatter could feel the chinks in his armor that Alice had begun widening – and shattering into a million pieces.

Mad March would die here – again - and Hatter would finally be free.


End file.
